


Carry

by pharis



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 03:46:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4989013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pharis/pseuds/pharis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some late-night conversations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carry

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in October 2009.

“Say, Hutch. Do you believe in hell?”

Hutch raised his eyebrows. “Other than being trapped with you forever on this shitty stakeout, you mean?” He ducked as Starsky threw a wadded-up paper napkin at him. “Keep your germs to yourself.”

“Hey, I’m serious. If we can’t get hold of this guy, or he skips bail or gets off or something, you think anything’s going to happen to him?”

“No.”

“Huh.”

***

“Okay, if not hell, how about karma, something like that?”

“Keep your eyes on that doorway, Starsk. Or do you need to trade off already?”

“I’m watching, I’m watching.” Starsky returned to the binoculars and shifted restlessly. “So?”

“I think karma is a load of bull. Wishful thinking at best. We’ve seen too many bad guys with cushy lives. Where’s their karmic punishment?”

“Maybe they get it in the next life.”

Hutch made a small dissatisfied sound. Starsky swiveled around to look at him, and Hutch took the binoculars. “Look, go for a jog or something. Jesus, Starsk, you’ve got ants in your pants tonight.”

***

The next night it rained, making it almost impossible to make out Hamilton’s door. They talked about the case, rehashing the kids’ statements and replaying information they both knew by heart, getting nowhere.

***

Hutch cleaned while Starsky took his turn at the window, dumping pizza boxes and overflowing ashtrays. Finally he sat at the little folding table, staring at Starsky’s outline against the yellow street light.

“Next life, huh?”

Surprised, Starsky swiveled around. “Huh? Oh.”

Hutch made an impatient gesture, indicating the window. Starsky said, “Well, come up here where I can see you, then.”

Hutch brought a kitchen chair over, and they sat shoulder to shoulder, looking out. Hutch picked flecks of peeling paint from the windowsill.

“I don’t know if I believe in a next life exactly,” Starsky said. “Wouldn’t be too surprised if it turns out to be reincarnation, though.”

“Bridey Murphy was full of shit.”

Starsky blinked at Hutch. “You never know.”

“Oh, yes I do. It was a stupid stunt to prey on the gullible.”

“Still, that don’t necessarily mean anything about reincarnation in general. I kind of like the idea.”

Hutch was shaking his head. “You can’t be serious, Starsk. To be….” He fell silent.

“What?” Starsky put a hand on his shoulder, but Hutch shook it off and got to his feet.

“To be dragged from one life to the next with all your memories, all your guilt and failures on your head. To, to … Christ, better to be damned to hell and have done with it.”

“Hey, Hutch.” Starsky was standing, too. He reached out again.

Hutch knocked his hand aside. “Will you look out the goddamn window!”

Stung, Starsky turned back. “Forget it.”

Silently, Hutch reclaimed his chair and replaced it in the kitchenette. He moved restlessly around the tiny apartment, finally coming back to stand near the window. He spoke to Starsky’s back.

“It just seems like a lot to carry around. If some well-meaning power grants me another time around, I just hope he really wipes the slate clean first.”

Starsky frowned a little and nodded at the window.

***

The bust was anticlimactic. The morning shift got him, half an hour after Starsky and Hutch had left. It was a smooth takedown with not a shot fired. Dobey told the others to take a day to sleep it off and then be ready for daytime shift on Thursday.

***

Hutch awoke with a start. Somebody in his apartment — but almost immediately, he recognized Starsky’s step and lay back down. Sounded like dishes and cupboards. “Need some help with your ransacking, there?”

“The pillaging is almost complete!”

Hutch rolled out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen. Early afternoon. He was hungry.

Starsky set two bowls down on the table and seated himself. “Granola, soy milk, and unsalted butter on whole-wheat toast. And oranges.” Hutch looked disbelievingly back and forth from the table to Starsky’s grin.

“What’s the catch?”

“Only that you better hurry up. We’re meeting Pete and Kiko downtown in an hour.”

***

Downtown it was the modern art museum, bright abstract paintings and installations of cloth and paper. They got ice cream afterward, and the four of them sat on the curb and made their own abstract drips of vanilla and strawberry on the pavement. They dropped the kids at home and Starsky headed for the plant nursery, where he insisted to a mystified Hutch that he should pick out two new plants. Starsky named them Mabel and Eloise, and helped Hutch repot them.

Back into town for dinner. Something other than their usual burger joint, Starsky said, so they walked a couple of blocks, looking at menus and following their noses. When Starsky suggested a Japanese restaurant, Hutch finally balked.

“What’s going on?”

“Can’t a guy spend some time with his best friend on a lovely afternoon?” Starsky gestured at the smoggy, overcast sky.

“Are you wining and dining me? Because I gotta tell ya, Starsk, I’m not that easy.”

Starsky flashed a sideways grin at him. “No, you’re not.”

Hutch grabbed Starsky’s elbow, stopping him. They faced each other on the sidewalk. The sun angled in behind Starsky’s sunglasses, showing Hutch his steady gaze.

“Why all the ‘these are a few of my favorite things’ today, Starsk? It’s not my birthday.”

Starsky swallowed. “What you said the other night.” Starsky looked away, jiggled his keys nervously, but his feet remained planted. “I want….” Finally he looked back at Hutch. “I know you dwell on things. I can’t change that. But I want you to carry this too.”

For half a dozen heartbeats they looked at each other. Hutch smiled slowly. “Yeah. I think I will.”

  
 


End file.
